


Pizza Prty

by foxinschlox



Series: MikoTotsu Week 2015 [4]
Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Family Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 00:30:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5436710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxinschlox/pseuds/foxinschlox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>for MikoTotsu Week 2015 ♔ Laughter|Fun : Homra Pizza Parties are known to be the illest, but not without a little startup ambition</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pizza Prty

The sound of a torrential storm battering the glass interrupted Mikoto's nap schedule.

He peeked over the back of the couch, and narrowed his eyes at the offending sound. Nothing was visible outside through the sheets of rain going sideways. The roar of the wind threatened to shake the bar down. Mikoto yawned.

A long groan from his stomach answered back. It dragged him into the kitchen to start gutting out the fridge. On the hunt for something particular.

“What should we do for food tonight? Since I kind of... forgot to go out for groceries,”  
Totsuka rubbed at the back of his neck. 

With a barren fridge, a typhoon outside, and a Kusanagi out of town their options were limited. Empty boxes with scraps of cheese left haunted Mikoto from the counter.

“Pizza.”

“Now King, you've had leftover pizza for the past four meals,” Totsuka checked the hollow cabinet next, “It's time for something different don't you think?”

Totsuka felt a heavy chin on his shoulder, pressure in curve of his neck. An embrace from behind pulled him tight and warm with hands on his middle – flush together in his king's hour of need.

….

“Pizza Prince? Yes I'd like to make an order for three large bacon, two winter crab with curry sauce, a pineapple, shrimp, and... barbecue? Um, the sausage-crust mascarpone 10 meat supreme, and one of your seafood topping specials, please.”

Totsuka (tried to) read from the list the rest of their stranded crew put together, handed up from Anna herself. He still wasn't sure Mikoto needed ten different varieties of meat...

“Oh and it's for delivery,”  
Totsuka chirped.

“Sorry our delivery service's done for the night. Road conditions are too dangerous to let the drivers out” – “Yeah it's only supposed to get worse out there”

They got the same story everywhere Totsuka called. Anna peered over his shoulder, watching him cross the names of pizza places off the take-out directory. On the last try he made the mistake of turning to King when he should've known better. Soulful amber eyes looking for pity in his own, and promising reward for his bravery.  
Order: placed for pickup.

Totsuka stole the car keys from their hidden hook under the counter. The emergency keys. For emergency rides in Izumo's car...

“It'll be fine. It's not that far from here.”  
He reminded as he buckled himself in. Mikoto slouched in the passenger's seat against the window smoking away.

With the car pulled out into the alley, out under the downpour, the backseat door suddenly opened. And in on a violent gust hopped Yata and Kamamoto. Both drenched, too impatient to wait.

“We'll help carry the boxes in!”  
“Yeah 'specially with all the rain.”  
The sparkle in their eyes knew they'd get to the food first.

This is alright – said Totsuka's nerves of steel. As he drove on he could only see a few feet in front of him. Mikoto scowled, the cigarette hanging from his lips damp from the rain blown in.

“King, can you watch that side for me?”

“For what?”

“For– Anna!”

The little girl reached between them to play with the music volume dial like usual. She'd hidden under Kamamoto's jacket tail to sneak in.  
Hearing her sneeze worried them both, so Mikoto pulled her into the safety of his lap and wrapped her up snug in his long blue coat.

A screech of wheels followed up by a blaring car horn sounded from their left side. Totsuka's sudden break threw everyone forward; he'd turned out into the street too early. The rain was thick enough to mask the flash of the oncoming car's floodlights.

“For that maybe,” Totsuka sighed, feeling Kamamoto attached to the back of his seat like a terrified cat. The smaller boy clung to him in turn.

“Oh,” said the Red King. He realized.

“We're fine, we're fine let's just pull up here.”

Totsuka merged them onto the expressway, attention fixed behind. No one was coming, that he was aware of, so he picked up speed. Lessons of experience always took a few times to sink in.  
If anyone noticed the car hydroplaning sideways they were too paralyzed with fear to say anything.  
Anna nodded along with Izumo's old-man-music selections of irrelevant smooth-jazz.

“Totsuka-saan,” Yata whimpered at the bright beacon signaling fast food through the deluge up ahead. Next exit! And suddenly everyone pressed to the glass. They would die without it.  
By the defective logic that “a little something will hold them over so the pizzas will survive the trip home!”  
Totsuka ended up with a receipt a mile long for supersized drinks, burgers, and extra large fries. He ended up wet from hanging out to a drivethru window too. The paper crown tilted on Anna's head matched the one she'd decorated Mikoto with. She gave him one fry at a time from the bag, rationing between him and the ones she offered their chauffeur. Very efficient. The two in the back lay sated, full to bursting, in a pile of a wrappers by the time the green-white-red flashing neon of their destination came into view. 

“Stay in here with her, King. No need for Anna to get back out in the rain.”

And no argument there.

“Let's go team~ time to help with those boxes!”  
Totsuka clapped his hands together cheerfully  
only to illicit a chorus of groaning.

Unfortunately for them there were times when Totsuka could be extremely persuasive.

….

Swells of laughter and stereo music inside harmonized with the “waterfall” sounds hitting pavement. Heavy rain created a curtain from his barsign to step through into shelter. Izumo shook out his umbrella; it's so nice to come home and open the door to

stacks on stacks of pizza boxes. Leaning towers and arches of pizza boxes, cheap beer boxes, tipping precarious over each other. All over his bar.

“They had to close down early so lots of orders got canceled,” Yata elaborated with his mouthful, upside down on the couch. “These were all on the house!”

The bartender slid into a half-grin in spite of his instinct to panic.  
Mikoto Suoh, the anti-king king, irritated by any special treatment or displays of servitude...  
tilted his head like for a passionate french kiss, for dripping cheese; Totsuka, perched on the next stool over, was feeding him a slice by hand with the other held under his chin.

Izumo's attempt to walk out laughing and leaning against the doorframe was met with a happy uproar.  
A few of their more inebriated clansmen tried lifting him up under the arms, ushering the bartender to have a seat at the “throne” beneath an elegant arch of boxes.

“I put your new champagne flute display in its case, all safe,”  
Totsuka licked the sauce from the back of one hand.

“What, you mean it's missing the party?” Izumo ruffled Anna's hair with a wry look to their appointed guardian in his absence.

“It's feta and pesto, with marinara on the side,” Anna explained about the slice she handed him on a proper plate. Only after her little smile gave away it was going to be his absolute favourite.

“So I think you guys might know me extensively.”

“Not saying I put that order in but –” Mikoto stretched, smug, back on the bar so his arm could fall around his vassal. Totsuka wasn't so talkative then. Nevermind the drinks, the good company. King's chest was very warm, and every word was like a deep purr from the depth of it– and Totsuka was moreso content with being needed, and oh-so close.

Needless to say if anyone was the most satisfied that evening it was the pair of them. The one who'd brave anything to give the Red King his way, and the one who couldn't live without him.

“Settles it then Mikoto, you're in charge've catering the rest of our parties.”  
Izumo wasn't going to think about how many months they'd be having leftover pizza from then on.


End file.
